


My Soldiers

by disasterinBold



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: All he wants to do is protect the ones he has come to respect and love, Angst, Death, Doesn't want to be alive or dead, Emotional Hurt, Endgame Levi/Erwin Smith, Established Levi/Erwin Smith, Guilt, Hard to explain but it's cool, Kinda complicated, Lots of deep thoughts, M/M, Mentally and emotionally stuck, Morally Ambiguous Character, New side of Erwin Smith, Post-Episode: Selfishness v. Selflessness, Purely based on the anime, Shame, Survivor Guilt, Trying to heal, Wants to make up for his sins, mentions of romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28607319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disasterinBold/pseuds/disasterinBold
Summary: On a mission to retake what once was lost, the Commander finds himself on Death's door. (WARNING: IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN ALL OF S3 OF ATTACK ON TITAN, DO NOT READ!)
Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	1. PROLOGUE | MY SOLDIERS, RAGE!

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, soldier! This is my first post on AO3 and I'm gonna try and make it a good one. This is just the PROLOGUE, so don't fear, there will be more of incredibly troubled Erwin Smith to come.

If he had to guess, he would guess he was dead. After all, his whole existence was founded on guesses.

No, not guesses.

Gambles.

He didn’t know what was worse. Guessing implied that he had no prior knowledge - just a shot in the dark. But gambling insinuated that he knew there was risk, yet still rolled the dice. 

Erwin Smith didn’t just gamble with dice. He gambled with lives. 

Maybe that was why there was always a hint of  _ something else _ in his Scouts’ eyes. Smith recognized the unhinged terror that rocked a soldier to their core. He had come to terms with that wide-eyed fear. Erwin understood that. It was  _ easy _ .

Beyond those terror-stricken eyes laid something deeper. Something not so easy. 

Was it horror? Panic? No.

It was a hunger, a meal left uneaten. A fire left unsparked. Utter and complete  _ rage _ .

With one blink of an eye, Smith could read the stories on his soldiers’ faces. Some were terrified. Others were excited. They knew they were going to die, yet there they stood, fist clenched over their hearts.

_ For the Glory of Humanity. _


	2. 1.1 | MY SOLDIERS, SCREAM!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was supposed to die, that’s what his purpose was.  
> So why did everything around him sound so utterly alive? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erwin learns what it's like to die. It's surprisingly similar to being alive.

There it was again. The searing pain that cut far deeper than any wound could. He didn’t know if he could bear it anymore.

He didn’t know if he wanted to.

Failure was something that Erwin had accustomed himself to years ago. The word no longer hurt him, despite hearing it flung at him mission after mission.

“There’s Commander Erwin!”

“Is that all that survived?”

“Who does that Commander think he is? Risking lives like that! Tsk!”

“Our taxes at work, eh? Filling useless Commanders’ stomachs!”

“A failure of a military if you ask me.”

Erwin couldn’t count on one hand how many missions he had objectively failed. High rates of casualties, low rates of survivors. That was always how it went: the price of Humanity. 

_ It was the only way _ , he would say,  _ to save us _ . And time and time again, Erwin would return with a mere sliver of the soldiers he had brought with them. He was always justifying their deaths.

In the name of Humanity, above all else.

Right?

How many times could he justify a soldier’s death? How many times could he look a comrade in the eye and tell them that their death was a step towards saving humanity? How many more could he ask to die for his -

Right.

He was dead. 

Nothing mattered anymore. He had failed his mission. He had failed his soldiers. He had failed his father.

A deafening cry rang out, bouncing off the walls of Erwin’s skull. What could that be? Wasn’t he supposed to be dead?

Light flickered inside his closed eyelids, causing the Commander to wince ever so slightly. Something wasn’t right. He was supposed to die, that’s what his purpose was.

So why did everything around him sound so utterly alive? 

Another booming cry followed minutes after the first, and Erwin felt a jerk of his heart. Was that possible when he was dead? 

Erwin didn’t expect to feel things when he was dead. Dying was supposed to free himself of his guilt, his shame, his failures. He wasn’t supposed to wince at the sounds of soldiers charging to their deaths. He wasn’t supposed to want to scream for them to turn back. He wasn’t supposed to be alive. 

A cold wash of anger fell upon Erwin. All he wanted to do was scream, rage, murder a Titan. It felt as though he was a puppet in someone else’s theatre. How dare they try to control his fate. How dare they play his strings like, like some sort of  _ instrument _ . 

“What instrument do you think you are?” A deep voice rang out from the void, followed by a maniacal chuckle. Erwin’s eyes suddenly flew open as he gasped for air like a fish flopping on land. He was lying down in what seemed like absolute nothingness. Surrounding him was nothing but white, save for a distant black square. The Commander slowly sat up, staring at his arms as though they were something alien. His icy gaze continued over his wounds which had seemed to heal themselves.

He reminded himself of a Titan. Erwin grimaced with disgust.

Dropping his arms by his side, Erwin pushed himself to stand. He was wearing his Survey Corps uniform, the exact same outfit he had died in. 

“I happen to be fond of the harp,” The Commander bellowed with an eerie calmness. He had many years to master his faux poker face. “What about you?”

“Hm, that’s a good choice,” the voice responded with a smile, “but I prefer the human voice.”

Erwin didn’t know why that response had caught him off guard. Immediately following his response, he had begun to consider the possible instruments that this unknown voice could choose. Of the thousands, the void had selected the voice. Erwin did not have time to process this answer, nor formulate his own. 

“Do you want to know why?” The void called out again. Erwin was silent, once again raking over the details in his mind.

The human voice. Singing. Speaking. 

“Well?”

Laughing. Crying. Belching.

“It’s quite rude to leave the other person in conversation without a response.”

Erwin ran through all the possible answers as if he were a human machine. But for once in his life, he didn’t know. 

“Why?” Erwin questioned aloud. 

“Because without it, you simply wouldn’t exist,” the voice answered smoothly. An instinctive defense immediately formed in Erwin’s throat. 

“You don’t decide that,” the Commander countered with equal control, but behind his calm was rage. 

“You see? You couldn’t question me unless you had your vocal chords. You couldn’t express your internal thoughts, your rage. You couldn’t scream at your troops to pull back and save themselves. You couldn’t tell them to die for you. You couldn’t lie to them, day after day. You couldn’t -”

“That’s enough.” Erwin interrupted through clenched teeth, eyes closed tight. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple as painful memories flashed through his brain. He trembled just slightly, clenching his fists. 

“Humanity’s existence relies on the human voice, don’t you see?” A scream rips through Erwin’s head as the void speaks.

“Without it, there would be no passage of ideas. There would be no progression. There would be no knowledge, no intelligence.” With each item the void lists, Erwin hears a soldier’s cry. 

The voice speaks for what seems like hours, listing the reason humanity would not survive without their voice. And with each justification, the screams worm their way inside Erwin’s head.

Mike.

Hange.

Eren.

Levi.  _ No, please. Not him. Anyone but him _ . 

“How can you possibly stop me?” The void taunts. The fire within Erwin had been sparked, and he didn’t know how long he could hold it back.

“Why do you think I’m forcing you to hear these screams? For pleasure?  _ Don’t you get it yet? _ Fight back, dammit! Scream! Rage! You must, or you will not survive!”

Erwin lets out an Earth-shattering cry. It is enough to reach across the world, powerful enough to penetrate hearts. He falls to his knees, suddenly exhausted, wanting to cry but simply not possessing the willpower.

“See! You have -” The void begins, but he is interrupted yet again by a furious Erwin.

“How dare you.” The Commander’s tone has reached dangerous levels of calm.

“Excuse me?”

“You do not have the right to play with my life like, like I’m your puppet. I am not a pawn in your game,” Smith growls.

“But you did?” The simple question knocks the air out of the Commander, causing his head to droop as he stares at the nothingness below him. “You had the right to control all those soldiers?” A silence.

“Do you know where you are, Erwin Smith?” The void’s voice no longer rings maniacal. Rather, it has become curious. 

“Hell?” Erwin responds, almost hopefully. A sympathetic laugh echoes.

“Some call it that. You are in my home,” the voice says, “and my name is Death.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, soldier! I'm glad you're here. I will be working to post the next few parts over the upcoming days/week. For now: leave a comment, question or the like if you so choose! Do you think the harp has any significance? Let me know ;]


	3. 1.2 | MY SOLDIERS, FIGHT!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn’t entirely wrong, and perhaps that’s why Erwin had not spoken in defense of himself. He could only justify his actions for so long before even he felt tired. He could not bring himself to spoon-feed his lies to himself any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things start to get a little complicated when confronted by Death.

Erwin almost laughed. Almost. Not that that was any different, his entire life was almosts.

He _ almost  _ succeeded in the mission. He  _ almost _ succeeded in keeping everyone alive. He  _ almost _ told Levi his true feelings. He almost died. Erwin grimaced, knowing that if he ventured further down that thought hole he would surely end up deeper in the void.

“So you agree that I’m dead?” Erwin called out, his gaze sweeping the nothingness that embraced him.

“I didn’t say that,” lamented the voice, “which is a shame. You would make a wonderful addition to my collection.”

“Your collection?” Erwin scoffed, disgusted by the audacity the darkness had.

“I was under the impression you had one too,” the voice responded coolly. Erwin bit back a growl, his own temper raging up yet again. 

“So you do have one,” the void exclaimed excitedly, “I knew it.”

“I don’t collect corpses,” Erwin spat, “I’m not a monster.” A shriek ripped through the void, causing Erwin to instinctively take a single step back, immediately on his guard. 

“Liar,” the void hissed, but it wasn’t malicious. There was a certain enjoyment, a certain element of pleasure that existed.

“Tell me, Commander, how many bodies are in your collection?” The void taunted, “I think I have about -”

“Do not dare speak another word,” Smith’s voice had dropped in an attempt to control himself. It wasn’t that the void was incorrect in its evaluation of the Commander’s humanity. What upset Erwin was the fact that it had played him like an instrument, strummed his strings to create a melancholic tune.

He had fallen for the void’s trap. He had always been two steps ahead of the void, he had known that the voice was trying to get him to admit to being a ruthless commander; to risking other’s lives for selfish motives.

It wasn’t entirely wrong, and perhaps that’s why Erwin had not spoken in defense of himself. He could only justify his actions for so long before even he felt tired. He could not bring himself to spoon feed his lies to himself any longer.

_ ‘I’m not a monster,’ _ he had said. Erwin’s lips formed a gentle smile, the one that only his closest comrades had gotten to see.

“Do you regret it?” The voice jerked Erwin from his own self-pity.

“Do I regret what?” Erwin inquired, his arms trembling at his sides, but not even the emptiness around him could see it.

“Forging your mountain of corpses. Collecting the bodies of soldiers who had no meaning to you otherwise,” the void replied. Erwin cringed, the truth really did hurt.

“They did have meaning,” Erwin called out softly, though there was no sign of weakness. His arms remained trembling. The void hummed, as if prompting Erwin to continue.

“I have long passed the point of regret,” Erwin began, “and I no longer ask permission. I do what I -”

“You do what you believe is right for yourself, or humanity?” The voice interjected, which in turn drew Erwin’s trembles to a close.

“For humanity,” Erwin called out, earning another shriek from the void.

“You and your righteousness Erwin Smith, I so do admire it,” the void giggled, “but you are nothing but a fraud.” Erwin dropped his head, the curvature of a smile beginning to form on his lips.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Erwin stated, innocence invading his answer. The void did not call back to him, and that was the moment that it knew. After what seemed like an eternity, the familiar voice called back to him.

“How long have you known?” The voice inquired.

“Since you started talking to me,” the Commander answered smoothly, “I knew what you were playing at.”

“Really?” The void sounded surprised, even mildly impressed.

“You think I don’t know when people are playing with me?” Erwin snapped bitterly, “I’ve allowed myself to fall for your traps and lies and taunts.”

“Have you now?” The void drawled as if it were bored, “It seemed like I really got to you.”

“I’ve been called a failure a thousand times, if not more. It does nothing to me,” Erwin said quietly, memories of disappointed citizens throwing insults at him left and right.

“I didn’t call you a failure, Erwin Smith,” the voice corrected, “I called you a  _ fraud _ .”

Erwin’s arms began trembling once more, laughter encasing him like he was a caterpillar in a cocoon. Had he really thought he would be able to outplay Death, the master manipulator? The Commander sealed his lips, his expression hardening. What had he missed?

“That’s the thing about you, Erwin Smith,” Death’s voice seemed to be coming closer, “you think too much. You think that there is always something to fight against or to fight for. Here you are, fighting me, trying to out think me, resisting me…” Its voice trailed off.

“Isn’t that what you wanted me to do?” Erwin cried, knowing that he was reaching his breaking point, “To fight, scream, rage?”

“That would be correct,” Death responded, which confused Erwin even more. He was beginning to grow tired of the mind games. 

“So what am I doing wrong?” Erwin raised his head, his blue eyes shining with a cloudiness that had never been there before. 

“You misunderstand me, Erwin,” Death was right in Erwin’s ear. The Commander’s trembles grew greater, his eyes widening.

“Your existence is contradictory, Commander. You cry freedom, but cannot see beyond the walls. You say you have a dream, but it’s simply a gilded chain. You say you fight, yet you lead soldiers to their deaths. You say you love, but you run from it. You say you want to save humanity, but humanity had to save you. You say your soldiers’ lives had meaning, but you’re not alive to give them meaning. That is why, Commander, you are a fraud,” Death finishes his soliloquy. 

Erwin falls to his knees, unable to even attempt to control his trembles. He can’t bring himself to say anything, the words swimming around in his brain. Nothing made sense. Was he a walking contradiction? What did that mean? Was he a fraud? 

For years he had every insult that existed hurled at him, but for some reason, being called a fraud destroyed him the most. Was it because that was true? Erwin supposed he was a fraud: he had led many soldiers to their deaths without them knowing why. Reaching the basement had become his goal, and he had been willing to sacrifice everyone, including himself, to do so under the guise of bettering humanity. 

His existence as a fraud was objectively true. He was sure that he had been called one before. So why the hell did it bother him now?

“Now I must ask you, Erwin Smith, do you wish to be dead?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings, soldier! First off: Thank you so much for the kudos' and comment, it really warmed my heart. I am so glad people are enjoying this so far. Onto the next stuff...
> 
> This part was a bit confusing, but I promise, I will clear everything up in future parts.


	4. 2.1 | IT'S US WHO GIVE MEANING

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin Smith finally begins to understand what he must do, or rather, not do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The truth was, Erwin had known that thousands of young soldiers had died for his cause. They had run, eyes wide, into the arms of death because he had simply told them to. They were supposed to follow orders because that’s just what his soldiers did. 

At first, the answer comes to Erwin quickly. 

_Yes._

Of course he should be dead. He wholeheartedly believed that this is what he deserved: to rot next to the soldiers he sent to their deaths. His eyes fluttered closed on their own accord, and when he opened them again he was atop a mountain of dead soldiers, their green capes with the Wings of Freedom visible to the Commander’s clouded eyes. Erwin sat upon a gilded throne, but the gold had begun to rust. 

“I thought you said you didn’t collect bodies,” the void rumbled cleverly.

“I…” Erwin didn’t know what to say. His gaze travelled down the pile of bodies and back up to his right hand which held an ODM blade. He could see the clear reflection of his face, and upon it was an expression that he had not worn in years.

Terror.

Erwin dropped the blade suddenly and watched it topple down the mountain. It didn’t clank like it should have, but merely fell silently. Although he regularly found solace in silence, this was the one time he found it unsettling. He stared at the bodies as if willing them to scream or cry out -- _anything_ \-- but they laid there lifelessly. 

Trembles rocked Erwin’s body the longer he stared at the mountain beneath him. There was no end, only a never-ending summit that lay under his feet. 

For the years that he had been a commander, Erwin had convinced himself that whatever he did was for the bettering of Humanity. No one had ever questioned him because he was The Commander - whatever he did, by law, had to be for the survival of humans. This facade wore off quickly when the townspeople had begun to see just how many people survived his missions and that’s when the insults had begun. People would whisper and stare, but it didn’t matter because Erwin was confident that he was in the right. He was _good_. 

He had to be. 

_Right?_

Even amongst the whispers and the cruel remarks, there were some who looked up at him like he was God himself; with such admiration and power that knocked the air out of him.

Kids like Eren Jaeger. 

The picture of Eren Jaeger ripped Erwin out of his own self-pity, leaving a mark that could hardly be undone. Eren reminded Erwin of himself so much that it hurt to think about it. He thought back to the first time that he had formally met the kid. 

Eren had a hunger that was stronger than anyone else he had ever met. A desire to murder the Titans so raw and pure that even Erwin would find himself being inspired. It was scary, almost. 

When the basement was revealed, Erwin felt something inside himself that would change him forever. 

He had to get down there, no matter the cost.

Erwin’s goal had changed, and no one was going to stand in his way. He would do whatever it took to get to the basement, sacrifice whoever he needed to. Even though this was not necessarily different from before, he knew that if he achieved retaking Zhiganshina, he would finally have answers.

He would finally be free.

Perhaps that was why he had pursued the basement with no mercy, willing to let anyone die. His desperation fueled him and took over, forever tainting the impression he had on his followers.

And even though the intention was never inherently malicious, it rapidly spiraled out of control. Erwin was so desperate to fulfill his own emptiness that everyone behind him disappeared, despite paving the way for the progress that the Survey Corps had made. 

The truth was, Erwin had known that thousands of young soldiers had died for his cause. They had run, eyes wide, into the arms of death because he had simply told them to. They were supposed to follow orders because _that’s just what his soldiers did._

_And despite what everyone said, Erwin Smith did care._

He may not have known each of them personally, but each time he heard them scream right before they charged head first at a Titan, Erwin recognized their rage. He could see their families, their ambitions, their talents. They were kids who had nothing to lose, everything to gain, and wanted to make the Titans pay. They wanted to turn their hell of a life into something better - even if just for a moment.

They were just like him. 

But he had treated the young cadets as a giant monolith, faceless kids who didn’t understand what they were getting into. They were expendable - easily sacrificable. When they didn’t return, he would lie and turn them into a hero, creating a story to keep their family’s from thinking they died in vain.

Erwin understood them better than anyone, but had let his desperation bleed out until he was at the end of his life. Only then did he begin to display regret.

When it was almost too late.

“When will you answer my question, Erwin Smith?” The voice of Death infiltrated Erwin’s thoughts, and the mountain of corpses disappeared, dropping him into nothingness.

“Hm?” Erwin rumbled, the fog in his mind not yet clear.

“Do you wish to be dead?” The answer didn’t come to Erwin as quickly as it had the first time. 

“I do not think the answer is as simple as you make it out to be,” the Commander finally said after a moment of silence.

“Oh?” 

“Perhaps you should change what you are trying to ask,” Erwin suggested, looking up into the darkness that embraced him with open arms.

“Hm, alright,” Death’s voice seemed to be getting further away, “If you were given a second chance at life, what would you do with it?” Erwin shook his head, a gentle smile playing at his lips.

“You misunderstand me,” Erwin spoke, taking charge of the conversation, “I do not wish for a second chance at life, nor do I wish to be alive. But it does not matter what I desire.”

“I see,” Death hummed, his voice sounding further away than before.

“My existence is not simply mine, Death. I am not just me. My decisions and my actions are not mine alone. I am the mountain of corpses -” 

“I thought you said that you do not collect bodies?” The voice interrupted, but Erwin held up his hand. His arm was no longer trembling.

“I am the rage of my soldiers, I am the ghost of my dreams. I am neither black nor white.”

“I… see,” the void’s voice is monotone, uninterested, but Erwin begins to understand what Death had been trying to get him to see.

“I will forever exist as an example. I will always be the commander of almosts, the leader of failures and I am a fraud. So I do not wish to live. But once again, it is out of my control,” Erwin states definitively, his confidence growing and mind clearing.

“What do you mean?” Death hopes to get one more admission out of the Commander, but its voice is a mere echo.

“I trust the decisions of my comrades, my soldiers, and my heart. I trust them to give my life meaning.” 

_As I should’ve done right from the start._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This short little fic is almost done! Thank you to everyone who clicked, gave kudos or commented. It really is greatly appreciated - I am so happy this has reached you all, and can't wait to continue writing here.
> 
> This part is yet another confusing one, but I will make this promise: the last part (aka the next one) will make things clearer for you. Plus, there will probably be some *eruri* action (which is why I know you guys came ;))


	5. 2.2 | WHAT BECAME OF THE HEARTS THEY GAVE?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin finally finds peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By all accounts, Erwin was not a good person. 
> 
> Strangely enough, Erwin was alright with that.
> 
> (This part is significantly shorter than the others).

At last, Erwin was alone. No more voice, no more Death. Just him. But once again, the silence was not much comfort.

Erwin settled himself down on a plane of nothingness, stretching out his legs and letting his lids droop. He half expected the image of a mountain of corpses to appear in his mind’s eye, but to his relief, there was no mountain or summit. 

The Commander was exhausted after jumping through mental hoola hoops, but it needed to be done. Confronting his past selves, evils and pain meant that he had to understand that no apology would ever make up for the hurt he caused thousands of cadets. It was not something that he could simply put a bandage over and call it a day. 

Everything he had told Death was true. In life, he was a fraud, a leader of failures who sat atop a mountain of corpses. Nothing good would come from trying to deny it. By all accounts, Erwin was not a good person. 

Strangely enough, Erwin was alright with that.

No, perhaps that was not the right word. It wasn’t that Erwin didn’t regret the things he had put his soldiers through. He would spend his dying breath repenting for his sins, and he suspected that the weight would never be lifted from his shoulders even in death. But even through all of his mistakes and failures, Erwin had never wanted Humanity to perish. In his eyes, leading the Survey Corps on those borderline suicidal missions beyond the walls seemed like the right thing to do; he believed that he had no choice. He had desperately wanted to win, to prove he was right, and that was where the grave mistakes had been made.

Erwin had decided that his dream and being right was more important than the survival of Humanity itself. There was nothing wrong with having ambition or following a dream, but when it began to cost more than it helped, Erwin should’ve stopped it right then. 

Yet he didn’t. The dice were still thrown.

Gambling came easy to Erwin. It was addictive, a disease that could not be cured. Who knew how it would end -- a monumental win, or a devastating loss? At first, the losses bothered him. But then they didn’t. Instead, Erwin began to anticipate them. 

And as much as he despised this fact, Erwin knew that no amount of self-loathing or self-pity would do any good. All he could hope was that Levi and the rest of the soldiers would do what was right -- that they wouldn’t make the same mistakes he had made. 

Thoughts of Levi pulled Erwin’s heartstrings. He would never see the Captain again, but the memories of love and respect caused the Commander’s heart to swell. Erwin remembered what Levi had said to him before he died:

_“Give up on your dreams and die.”_

If anyone else had said this to Erwin, he would’ve told them to go to Hell. But when it came from Levi, it was an act of love. It was an understanding that Erwin firmly believed that no one else possessed. Because of Levi, Erwin had been able to die more peacefully than he would have otherwise.

Levi Ackerman ignited a spark within Erwin that no one else was capable of. He was the best Titan killer around, an unspoken genius in his own right, and a passionate partner. He wasn’t gentle by any means, and whatever came out of his mouth was spoken with conviction and precision. The countless stolen kisses and encouraging gazes made Erwin’s life worth living. 

Erwin was hit with a sudden urge to be revived, to go to Levi, to thank the man for everything he had done. He desperately wanted to be reunited with the one man who genuinely understood his mind, his goals, and his sins. 

But just as quickly that the urge washed over him, it dissipated. There was no realistic way Erwin could possibly be reunited with Levi -- he was dead, after all.

_Right?_

Erwin had to trust that Levi would make the best decision for Humanity. He fully expected to stay dead and he was fine with that. The familiar curvature of a smile melted onto Erwin’s lips as he began to lay down, ready to sleep. 

But then, Erwin heard a cry. It sounded like someone was sobbing - someone familiar, but Erwin couldn’t figure out who. A sharp pain suddenly shot up his left arm, and all he could see was the cloudy sky above him.

Blue eyes collide with bloodied gray.

A silence.

A scream.

A fist.

A thump as a body falls over.

Something is wrong.

“Welcome back to Hell, Commander. How do you feel?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AH! We’ve come to an end my friends. Every time I write a new chapter, I start off with a desire to explain the previous one. When I would finish writing it, no questions were answered. I know that’s what I promised, but I think it would be more meaningful to leave everyone without an explicit explanation of what happened in this short fic. I will gladly answer any questions, though! It was a pleasure to write this for everyone who stopped by. Thanks for everything :]
> 
> PS. I’m planning to do some sort of Erwin/Levi fluffier fic, though writing fluff is not my forte...

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back, soldier! Thanks for sticking around to read this short prologue or introduction, if you will. I have no beta readers, nor has anyone seen this story at all, so feel free to leave comments/constructive criticism -- it's greatly appreciated!


End file.
